What Determination Can Do
by cartoon moomba
Summary: Lloyd's determination, the need for Kratos to be reminded of his son's disability at flying, and the innocent bystander of a bird. Semi-sequel to Rheiard.


**Disclaimer: **Tales of Symphonia does not belong to me.

**Rating: **K

**Spoilers:** Kratos, end-game

**AN:** Okay, so I`ve had this written down in my notebook for two years now, but never bothered to type it up… and here it is, the semi-sequel I mentioned in Rheiard. I have half a mind now to write up something about Kratos learning how to use his wings… enjoy.

**What Determination Can Do**  
(or How To Fly Safely)

"What do you mean, I can't do it?"

Kratos stared at the scowling, fuming face of his eighteen-year-old son and resisted the urge to chastise him the day before he was set to leave for Derris-Kharlan (any more than necessary).

His heart tittered slightly at the bothersome reminder, but he promptly ignored it.

"I mean just that, Lloyd," he attempted to explain yet again to the stubborn ears of the teenager before him. "You haven't managed to successfully fly while keeping your balance—" His eyebrow twitched in the midst of his sentence and Lloyd's face flushed in shame, his wings fluttering behind him at the mention. "-Ever since we began this morning, and night is nearing soon. It would not do well to attract even more monsters to Iselia, now would it?"

Lloyd sighed, admitting defeat at last, and let his wings disappear behind me with a flash of bright mana. "You're right," he muttered, although not without resentment, before managing to conjure up one of his famous smiles. "Want to head back now, Kratos?"

The auburn haired man nodded, not allowing the disappointment in his son's failure to show on his face, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the leafy bushes.

Behind him, the smile on Lloyd's face flashed away and the young man clenched the fists at his sides, gritting his teeth in determination.

He was not going to prove his father right in this belief.

-o-

Kratos frowned the next morning as he headed back to where he had last left Lloyd, coming upon the belief that the boy had wanted to sulk for a while when he heard no footsteps following behind him the night before. However, it seemed that Lloyd had not returned home after all, if Dirk's words were anything to go by.

Kratos increased his pace through the woods, anxious to find the presence of his son – Mithos was gone, for that he was certain, but there was no telling what the left-over Desians had in mind for the vanquisher of their ruler, and in the long-run, their dream. Kratos stepped into the clearing where they had practiced last night and stared.

"Lloyd?"

The red-clad swordsman grinned up at the other man from where he lay sprawled on the grassy ground, his clothes torn in several places and stray twigs scattered in the bird's nest that was his hair, before springing up to his feet and waving the angel over.

"Kratos, look!"

Mana wings sprung forth from his back and he leaped high into the sky, hovering in the air for a moment before taking off into the distance, looping through the clustered trees over Iselia, his laughter reaching the ears of an astounded Kratos. The shock eventually spread into a slow smile, a feeling of warmth bubbling up in his chest.

Lloyd set back down after a few more moments with his wings fluttering in the air like an oversized firefly. "What do you think, Kratos?" He grinned, doing a joyous twirl before beaming at his father. "I practiced all night until I got it down!"

Kratos smiled at his son, his eyes damn near to sparkling in the light. "Good job, Lloyd. I'm proud of you."

The young man's face flushed at the praise and a minute of comfortable silence passed between the two, before Lloyd broke it with a bout of laughter. "Thanks Da—Hey, look, that's a cool bird!"

And Lloyd took off, promptly crashing into a tree not three seconds later.

An indignant bird squawked at the disturbance behind him, ruffled his feathers, and took off as fast as he could away from the sudden loud laughter of a certain dark haired man in the small clearing below.

It huffed and rolled it eyes; humans. Useless, the lot of them. Honestly.


End file.
